Things Always Either Go Bad or Just Get Much Worse
by bloodhungryHalfa
Summary: There's a weird new kid at school. That, and the world's about to end. Again. Some things never change. But... since Wilbur changed the future, why is everything still the same as when Lewis left?  DP:TUE Alternate Reality
1. Prelude

**Prelude**

The alternate dimension, the ghost zone, swirled around her in all of its glowing green expanse. She stood alone, solemnly looking out at the deathly serenity.

Suddenly a pain seared behind her eyes, and she saw a premonition of what would be.

She flashed her eyes open instantly. "No...!"

Gritting her teeth, eyes wide in horror, she took off at amazing speeds towards the gap in time, the gap leading to the tower that held an importance to all the timestreams, its importance and existence something that most people had no clue about.

When she arrived, there was no one there, the only thing remotely interesting or showing signs of life or activity was the swirling green viewing portal.

As she stepped into the dim stone room the portal swirled to a scene she never wanted to see.

_The explosion tore up the building with a certain family inside. _

She took a step closer, hoping to turn it off, but the screen changed again to show _the orphan of that explosion on the doorstep of his used-to-be arch-enemy._

Again as she stepped forth the screen changed once more.

_"I don't want these emotions anymore! Everything's so much stronger, it hurts to even breathe knowing they're gone! I can't take this anymore..."_

_The voice was painful to listen to, and all too familiar. The raven-haired kid was practically begging the man to do something. _

She took another step and the scene changed again.

She couldn't watch, but she couldn't to look away.

Couldn't look away as her all-but-blood brother _had his ghost half ripped out_.

Couldn't look away as _his ghost half, angry and hurt, betrayed, tore out the man's as well and merged with it._

_Couldn't look away as the ghostly abomination murdered its former hosts as brutally and bloodily as it could muster._

_Couldn't look away as it flew to the sky, with all intents of taking its pain out on the entire living, or dead, world. _

She ran to the portal, changing the image to that of the one city that she _knew_ he would go to first, and leapt through head first without a second thought.

_This is... this is all my fault!_

And the gauntlet-like watch on her wrist suddenly changed to read; **DAY: 21/30, MONTH: 06/12, YEAR: 2007 AD, REALITY CODE: JiX0 # 4.54 # 5k10**.

* * *

><p><strong>391 Words<strong>

Yeah, yeah, I know I have other stories (yeah, grand total of _one_). I'm taking a small break off Retaken (which I'm rewriting, anyway. I don't like it, it just screams SUE no matter what I try and do.) Instead, I was also thinking on writing-well, posting, I've already been writing it-a Ben 10 x Danny Phantom crossover with Dyanna from Retaken, and I've been working on the storyline for Retaken, as well as character development.

On the Internet, no one knows you're a cat.

_Ta~_


	2. How Far the Bully Fly

**How Far the Bully Fly**

One of the things that first surprised Wilbur when he got back to his own time was that everything was still the same as when he left. He had _kinda_ expected things would be... well, _different_ somehow. But it wasn't.

It almost felt surreal going back to school again after all the excitement of time travelling, meeting his dad as a kid, almost ceasing to exist permanently, being attacked by a T-rex... the list went on.

He'd actually been back to his bizarre life for about a month now, but still...

That was about the time he stopped in his tracks as he processed the scene before him.

Jake was the nastiest bully in school. Ruthless and he never got caught. And he was currently hanging by his underwear from the school's tallest flagpole.

_How_ he managed to get up there was one question, but _Who_ did it was more important.

Jake was on the school team, and was in no way weak or little, and while Wilbur was awed, he also had to prepare for the fact that there might be someone worse at large.

Suddenly and silently, Jake's angry bull-eyes, small and beady, showing more white than really necessary, locked onto Wilbur's own. "_Great_," Wilbur thought sarcastically. "_He blames _me_._"

Safe to say, he was _not _going to be looking forward to _that_.

Homeroom was usually one of Wilbur's least favourite parts of the school day, so he was quite glad to get it over and done with.

Of course, this, unbeknownst to him, was when the second strangest thing that day was going to happen...

His homeroom "teacher" Ms Logue, was standing at the front of the room, most of his classmates there already, with a teen he'd never seen before standing boredly up there with her.

The teen look at him, and her eyes sent a chill down his spine. Her eyes were cold as liquid nitrogen, alarmingly intelligent, and calculating his every move with their bright royal blue depths. It was scary.

She must have been skinny as bones, because even her loose, baggy clothes couldn't disguise the fact she looked like she hadn't eaten in a very long time. He briefly wondered if she was one of _those_ girls, but she really didn't seem the type.

"Fashionably late, Mr Robinson," asked Ms Logue with one eyebrow quirked. Wilbur grinned sheepishly, quickly slinking into his seat, ignoring the sniggers. There were always people later than him, who always got off the hook without a hitch.

But no, not him, since he was the kid of Cornelius Robinson that apparently meant everything he did was under 10 times as much scrutiny. He understood why, but that didn't mean he liked it.

"As I was saying," she continued on to the class, sending him a brief look he pretended not to notice. "Miss Pyerobi is new here. She'll be staying with us for the term, and hopefully longer."

Pyerobi gave a small, tight smile, like she highly doubted it.

"Please all do your very best to make her feel very welcome here," Ms Logue continued, putting on a charming smile. "Now, go sit down somewhere, and we'll begin our day."

Wilbur inwardly sighed. He _really_ wasn't a huge fan of Homeroom.

* * *

><p>People had tried to talk to the noob—uhh, Pyerobi. Well, Wyeth, actually. Pyerobi was her last name—but they learned quickly she was even more antisocial than Wilbur could be at times.<p>

The second period of the day was science, and it was just Wilbur's luck that he was left sitting next to her.

"So... where're you from," he asked, trying to make small talk as the teacher flipped through his textbook.

Most teachers in the school used interactive boards, but not old Mr Scotts, no sir-e. "In _my_ day real science and teaching was done with books and whiteboards," he would say, and that was that.

"Oh, you know," said Wyeth. "Places."

Wilbur didn't look amused, and she smirked. "I'm just messing with you. I wasn't born there, but I've lived in Minnesota for most of my life."

"O...kay," said Wilbur. Honestly, he hadn't even expected _that_ much.

Mr Scotts drew up a diagram on the board, starting to talk about the properties of the molecule he was drawing. Then, "Wyeth, can you name this?"

"Phosphate, sir," she replied without really needing to think about it.

"Right you are. Can you tell me how we get Phosphates?"

"They are the naturally occurring form of the element phosphorus, found in many phosphate minerals," she replied again, sounding like she swallowed a textbook.

"Right again," said Mr Scotts. He drew up another diagram. "Now, in 2007, it was calculated that at current rate of consumption, it was estimated to run out in 345 years." He paused for effect. "However," he said loudly, startling the drifters awake and causing a few people to chuckle.

"However," he said more calmly this time, with a small smile saying he found it equally amusing, "just 5 years later, some scientists came to believe that a 'Peak Phosphorus' would occur in just 30 years and that at current rates, reserves would be depleted in the next 50 to 100 years." He paused for breath and to make sure everyone was awake. There was _no_ sleeping in Science class.

A hand was in the air. "Yes," said Mr Scotts. "Mandy?" And class began in earnest.

* * *

><p>Science class ended too soon, in Wilbur's eyes. There were two types of teachers in the world... those that were insanely boring, and those that were kinda cool. Mr Scotts was one of the cool ones... and a little insane, too.<p>

But after lunch, he was about to face one of his most dreaded teachers _ever_... Mr Spook. Well, actually his name was Mr Spoon, but everyone called him Spook, because he was so boring his made you die. Not really, but it felt like it.

Now, Wilbur was actually quite good at Maths. Good enough to be able to pass the class rather well with just doing the homework, in fact. But in order to get the work, he had to be at class...

Ah well, at least it would be some extra snooze time.

Suddenly the hall was rather quiet. There were only a few people aside from Wilbur and he thought he might've glimpsed Wyeth, but he wasn't sure.

He recognised the people who came around the corner too many seconds too late. Damn! He had forgotten about that...

But all of a sudden Jake's eyes widened as he saw someone behind Wilbur.

"So _nice_ to see you again," said a familiar voice, slightly rough but with a deceptive calm, and laced with vaguely adult tones. "It really hasn't been long enough..."

Wilbur whipped his head around to see Wyeth standing there with a slouch and a raised eyebrow.

His mouth was slightly open when he realised a simple, mystifying truth. "It was _you_ who put him on the flagpole!"

Wyeth grinned like a kid in a candy shop, like she couldn't bear to keep that one under wraps, it made her too happy when she thought about it.

Jake grit his teeth, anger taking over again as his eyes became slits and his nostrils flared. He was obviously confident that he had the upper hand now he had three surly guys as backup.

But Wyeth was just standing there, drawing her back up so she was full, straightened height. She only came up to Jake's nose, but that didn't seem to bother her. "What are you doing? They'll flatten you," hissed Wilbur. But she just gave him a confident smile.

"I'd like to see them try," she challenged.

Wilbur facepalmed. There had been the slightest chance of no conflict before, but this solidified it. Wyeth was looking for a fight, going so far as to bait four of the school toughest tough-guys into a one-on-one fight. A fight that logical reason said that she was going to lose.

His initial plan had been to do something, but as soon as the first guys charged, he soon found himself watching like a stunned sheep.

In one fell swoop she had tossed the first guy effortlessly over her shoulder, and elbowed the other in the face so hard he was knocked unconscious, crumpling to the floor with his face smeared onto the lockers.

Wyeth quirked an eyebrow in challenge. _That the best you can do?_

Jake growled as the guy she tossed over her head recovered, charging at her at the same time as Jake's other conscious goon did. Wyeth tilted her head slightly as she sighed, ducking so she could get into a high-jump, twisting in mid-air so that her feet were planted on one wall, and her hands on the other.

The charging bulls collided and Wyeth winced. "Ouch," she mouthed drawn-out like. The two fell back, definitely concussed. Faceplant x 2.

Wyeth then dropped down and turned to face Jake, but the coward had already run off. Wyeth raised a hand, waving goodbye to the spot Jake had once been. She blew a kiss, took a bow, then turned around, completely ignoring the shocked faces of every single witness as she hummed a cheerful ditty that Wilbur was sure was "Drink to the Dark" as she walked off to Maths class.

The stupor only lifted once people realised ten minutes had passed, and even then they were sure they had hallucinated.

But Wilbur was absolutely sure he had seen what he saw.

And he was adamant that there was something abnormal about that kid Wyeth, something that _he_ was going to find out...

His stomach growled out in protest.

...After lunch.

* * *

><p><strong>1781 words<strong>

Dan will come into this all, I say. He will!

But if people find this interesting, I require one single review before I get the next chapter up. Even if it's an anonymous two-word "Keep Writing" thing. Just one, that's all I ask.

Oh, and "Drink to the Dark" is something my friend and I came up with.

And now, My friend's official quote:

A promise is a binding oath... if you break it, you suck.

_Toodle pip!~_


	3. Girls Are Weird

**Girls Are Weird**

Wilbur had to admit, though only after the fact and never out loud, that Wyeth's plan had actually been quite brilliant—but he only thought so because he didn't like those guys! Jake and his bullies would never admit that they'd been beaten by a girl—let alone a scrawny one less than a third their size. Well, _that_ and nobody who witnessed the event believed it. Wilbur almost didn't believe it himself.

And yet he blew his chance to ask her about it, since the only time he'd been close enough for the rest of the day was during Maths. For a while, she looked like she was being tortured, but managed to fall asleep soon enough. Actually, she held her breath so she could pass out.

He smirked when he recalled the memory.

Mr Spook—uh, _Spoon_—woke her up and she had jolted to her feet shouting, "Ghost!" and nearly, but not quite, punched him. Despite the dazed look on her face, she almost looked a bit embarrassed.

Spoon, of course, was _furious_, and gave her Detention. He probably thought she was making a reference to his "Affectionate Nickname" the students had given him... But, then again, she did almost punch him, and Spoon was strictly anti-violence...

Wilbur didn't get any other chances during the next class, and suddenly the school day had come to an end, leaving him surprisingly annoyed.

And _that_ was when he suddenly found himself face-to-face with Alaila, one of the school's most popular girls... and the freakiest. He jumped back in surprise and she did that bizzare, unattractive smile and said in a snide nasal fake-accented voice, "Oh, you _will _be coming to this year's freshman-sophomore Morp, Wilbur. Won't you?"

Two commonly known facts amongst the student body: Alaila was a b*tch, and she thought Wilbur was cute. She was in the sophomore year, and was usually the mind behind much of Jake's bullying.

Which was why he knew immediately that she wasn't asking, she was _demanding_.

"Um... yeah, 'course. Why wouldn't I," he said with a fake smile, desperately trying not to back away slowly. Alaila was 7 types of evil.

She smiled even wider and giggled as she flounced back to her "friends" to report the news.

Wilbur tried his hardest to not look like he was running away or fleeing but he guessed that, by the sound of the annoying gaggle of girls' giggling like there was no tomorrow, he failed.

Man, he really hated those girls and he would never, ever, understand them. Ever.

By the time he got home, though, he had already almost forgotten his run-in with Alaila had ever happened. And as he walked in the door, ignoring the twins and greeting Lefty, the first thing he heard, as always, was his mom calling out for him to make sure he got his homework done.

And, as always, he'd call out the exact same response.

But first... he was going to play chargeball.

And _then_ he would get to the bottom of this.

...After dinner. Obviously.

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><p>It had been four days since Wyeth had beaten Jake and his bullies and now it was Saturday. Which meant, of course, no school. He was no closer to answers, but the answer seemed to be right there, taunting him.<p>

Not that those four days hadn't been slightly amusing, mind you. Every day whenever one of Jake or his bullies opened their lockers something new would happen. The first day was lots of sticky, glowing pink stuff all over Jake, making his hair glow pink—it didn't even fade the next day. Of course, this put him in a rotten mood, but it was absolutely hilarious.

It got crazier and weirder each day, and though the out-of-school-hours security cameras couldn't catch the culprit, he was absolutely sure he knew who was behind it all...

Oh yeah, and the Chargeball room was down for a software update, which meant he was bored on a Saturday morning, which automatically had him in a moderately bad mood.

He heard a noise behind him, a growling grunting snort.

"Not now, Tiny," Wilbur groaned, fiddling with the chargeball glove on his hand. He wasn't exactly _supposed_ to... or really _allowed_... to have the chargeball glove out of the game room, but he had never had a problem with it unless his mom was around, and she was out at a performance with the frogs until after lunch.

He heard the noise again, this time accompanied by the dinosaur using his snout to shove Wilbur off his perch on one of the "sculpted" trees.

"Aaagh," exclaimed Wilbur, the sudden fall unexpected, making him greet the ground with his face. He lay there a moment before rolling over, unimpressed with the Tyrannosaurus, who looked extremely happy, wagging his entire lower body.

Suddenly Wilbur got an idea, and stood up. "You wanna play," he asked Tiny.

Tiny perked up, wagging his tail even faster.

So Wilber charged up the chargeball glove and, throwing an energy ball as far as he could, shouted, "Then, FETCH!"

The ground quaked as Tiny chased after the orange-red ball of light and Wilbur nearly fell over again.

"Pfff," he drew out, rolling his eyes. "_Dinosaurs_."

* * *

><p>Wyeth scrunched up the newspaper article, tossing it so hard it rebounded, landing several meters away, on the kitchen floor. She <em>had<em> been re-reading some old archives left in some old boxes she'd left abandoned for who _knows _how long, but it was beginning to depress her.

She paused, taking a breath and holding it, snatching up the scrunched up paper ball, smoothing it out again. She muttered something that even the wind didn't hear before sighing and walking to the recycling bin. "Sometimes, you just gotta let it go," she said, holding the paper ball over the bin.

"I mean," she said, interrupting herself, pulling the ball back from over the mouth of the bin, "this is killing me, just going on clinging to the past. You're in the freaking now, Wy. Get outta your Gorram head already and get on with your forsaken existence. You won't survive this otherwise." She was well aware she was talking to herself, but the words reverberating calmly off the kitchen walls were doing miracles for her inner turmoil.

"My memories aren't letting me forget, I _know_ that. But I have to try and let go of it somehow. I let go of Dolph. I let go of Caed. I let go of them all, but you just need to accept that there's nothing you can do, and life goes on."

She took a deep breath, holding the scrunched up ball of ancient newspaper in her hand. But she couldn't let go.

"You damn coward," she snarled, forcing her hand to drop it into the bin with a smug smile.

"Was that so hard," Wyeth asked herself in faux cheer, barely resisting the urge to grab the scrap out of there. "Now that I've started, though, why stop?"And she grinned in uncanny energy as she put as many hurtful pictures and articles in the bin as possible, even going so far as to throw whole newspapers in there.

It actually was... really, really fun, surprising Wy even more than her relinquishing such treasured objects of emotional pain and torment.

When she ran out of newspaper and photos, she actually whined in disappointment.

Then she, in a learned act of lucidness, changed her thought process like switching off a light switch. "Ok," she said firmly. "Now I want hot fudge and ice cream. And some old fashioned Ribena. But they don't make than any more... so sad. What about red wine? Nah, too _blek_... Cherries, then? Yup. Ok. Cherries chopped up into little _tiny_ pieces with hot fudge and vanilla ice cream. Cool."

And she was off again, in a much happier mood than when she started.

"After this, I shall work out until I get tired enough to do my homework," she declared. "Or I will just... not do homework. I do not like homework! But I'll do it anyway. OOOHHHH! FUDGE!"

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><p><strong>1485 words<strong>

I asked for just one review, even if it was an anonymous "Keep Writing". I got four. _Four_. That is so fricking awesome! So, thanks to you guys, there is now this new chapter.

Sorry if it sucks, I nearly got writer's block halfway through, but I let myself put down suckish words until I got my mojo back. So if you detect something suckish, that was my writer's block kicking in... I tried cleaning it up, but things sometimes slip through the cracks, you know.

...Title was randomly thought up.

Next chapter definitely gets some DP-verse action. I promise. And you know what my friend says about _that_, don't you? Read last chapter's Author notes if you don't. You Skimmer.

Plus, have any requests on some DP characters to appear, or some Fenton inventions (new or old) to appear? I may just take some of those suggestions if you do...

Celebrities are people who spend their whole lives looking for fame, then hide behind dark glasses so that nobody knows who they are.

_Oui revoir~_


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